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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Today's Document
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Claire Keane
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@hey-bailie
Me, a Ravenclaw at a large social gathering: quiet, shy, observant, nervous inarticulate responses.
Me, a Ravenclaw with a favourite human: yabber, yabber, yabber. Singing tunelessly at the top of my lungs, arbitrary bursts of freestyle dad dancing…
Turns out it was autism all along
People literally my entire life growing up: “credit cards are the devil, never get one”
The real world ™: “you don’t have a credit card? 🔫👀👀👀”
Happy almost Easter, friends.
Jesus gone rise up and WHOOP THE DEVIL.
Hard to sit here and be close to you, and not kiss you.
F. Scott Fitzgerald, Tender is the Night (via wordsnquotes)
Did I ever tell yall about the time I had a really vivid dream that I overheard some dudebros talking about sucking dick and one of them said “I’d suck a dick” and his bros were like “but bro you’re straight” and the response was “It doesn’t have to be a guy’s dick. Don’t be a transphobe, Chad” because I just remembered the phrase “Don’t be a transphobe, Chad” and now I’m laughing
I’m reblogging this because I just remembered “don’t be a transphobe, chad” again
The Holy Trinity:
Don’t be a transphobe, Chad, People are gay, steven and they’re lesbians, harold
World’s Smallest Cat: Rusty Spotted Cat | “He may look like a kitten, he’d still fit in the palm of your hand - but this little male is very nearly fully grown. [..] What he lacks in size… he makes up for in daring.”
hhhHHE IS SMALLER THAN THE LEAVES
I’m crying. I love him.
He’s precious and I love him.
Me, a Ravenclaw at a large social gathering: quiet, shy, observant, nervous inarticulate responses.
Me, a Ravenclaw with a favourite human: yabber, yabber, yabber. Singing tunelessly at the top of my lungs, arbitrary bursts of freestyle dad dancing…
You know when you realize certain things that happened way back in the day, that explain a lot about who you are now? I very distinctly remember the day. I remember being at a water park the summer after fifth grade, with my two best friends. I was a bean pole growing up, an awkward silly bean pole. But I remember looking down at my legs that day, as I sat on the wooden bench, and noticing for the very first time, “my legs look fat when they’re squished down like that.” I was ten years old.
I remember the day I first wondered why my stomach, all scrunched up because I was slouching, looked fat.
I remember the day I promised I’d never eat a bag of chips again.
I remember the day I learned I could stop eating, and I remember the day that I did.
I remember the first time I lied to my parents about it. I remember trying to blend in, not let myself be noticed. I remember the excuses I told my friends. Not feeling good, big breakfast, cramps, no money.
It was a very dark and lonely place because of the fear of being found out, and I was very good at keeping the secret.
I remember all these days, all these moments. I remember little insignificant details about them, where I was, who I was around. I had no clue at the time, but these were huge moments for me. They led to over five years of disordered eating, and a lifetime of insecurity in the very back of my mind.
I don’t know if there is anyone to blame for it, besides maybe society and lack of knowledge. My parents were incredible, they did nothing to spur this on, and they couldn’t have done anything to stop it. It was just something I had to go through, I think.
But because of this experience that I have, I know what I will do if I ever have a daughter.
I will teach her that we eat to fuel our bodies, to give them strength to love and run and give and help and jump and hug and carry and hike and laugh and do every good thing there is for us on this earth. I will teach her about sustainable sources and the importance of knowing where your food comes from. I will teach her gardening and baking and the art of putting together a cheese plate. I will teach her to hike and run and do yoga. I will teach her how to make all my favorite foods: waffles, skirt steak with chimichurri, chopped kale salad, blueberry muffins, fettucini alfredo, iced vanilla bean latte, raspberry shortbread cookies, red curry with cauli-rice. I will teach her that it’s ok to eat chips, because chips are delicious. I will teach her that “fat” isn’t the worst thing a person can be. I will teach her that she doesn’t need to keep anything a secret from me. I will teach her that it’s normal to feel insecure sometimes, and if she is, to voice it. I will teach her to be kind and honest and loyal and understanding and forgiving. I will teach her to be a good friend. I will teach her that she is strong and beautiful and capable of everything.
[based off a journal entry from January 2012 - I will definitely be teaching these things to all my kids, not just the daughters]
The gospel does not preach of the “deserving” poor. Matthew 25:31-46 doesn’t tell you to feed only the “deserving” hungry, give drink to only the “deserving” thirsty, clothe only the “deserving” naked, or invite in only the “deserving” stranger. It instructs us to simply serve others, not judge if they are qualified enough to be helped.
[is alive and has to do stuff because of it] hmmm don’t like that
Brooklyn Life, New York, August 14, 1915
Again it disturbs me that people in their early twenties are ashamed of being virgins as though it should be normal and expected for middle schoolers and high schoolers to be fucking lile crazy particularly when those are the most vulnerable amd likely to be taken advantage of by adults. This world’s fixation with sex is disturbing
Feminism didn’t teach me to hate men, but it did teach me to stop prioritising them over women.
And it turns out a lot of men think that’s the same thing as hatred.
